


It's Getting A Bit Long

by Soul4Sale



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gay, Haircuts in the Military jokes, Kissing, M/M, Slash, Yaoi, possible misuse of slang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soul4Sale/pseuds/Soul4Sale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What better way to distract Scout from a hard battle than by talking about him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Getting A Bit Long

**Author's Note:**

> So… This originally was supposed to be something else, but it ended up veering way off course and now it’s this… xD; I hope you guys enjoy, it was fun to write. I’m having too much fun with this stuff.

The battle had been brutal, that day. Between the Heavy and the Engineer, Scout had snuck past the RED’s defenses a total of zero times, Medic had been cornered and killed more times than anyone else, and even Sniper had suffered a few losses. Despite the respawn room, despite the Medigun, despite all of these things meant to keep the Mercs running, the day sat like a glaring gargoyle on the edges of their minds, mocking their failure at the hands of a merciless spree. Even the usually uppity Weylon drug himself up to the battlements like a sack of lead, nearly falling into his place beside the box that Richie had settled himself against. It was his job to keep watch for ceasefire shenanigans tonight, as it was most others, but there was no way that the two would let that get in the way.

“‘Allo, Roo.” He greeted quietly, raising a brow at the younger man, eyes nearly invisible behind his shades in the darkness. There was something about the way the blue-eyed blonde slowly tipped his head back, looking slightly hollow and disheartened. “Somethin’ the matter?” The second the Sniper heard that odd, mirthless chuckle from the boy at his side, his attention went from split to totally focused on the younger man. Gun set to the side, he threw one leg up over the other’s cap-clad head, so that the other leaned against the box between his legs. The runner adjusted so that his head was pressed into the other’s thigh, and he finally shook his head.

“I can’t sleep. Keep thinkin’ ‘bout… What happened today. Yanno, ya kinda… Died.” And, for what had been three seconds too long, he had been totally certain that there would be no respawn. It wasn’t often that Richie died on him. Every time it happened, though, he felt his heart seize up in his chest and he could barely move. This usually led to him waking up in the respawn room just as he watched that dark vest and telltale hat run off before him.

Of course, the look in the other’s eyes was enough to pull something from the Sniper that most others would deny existed. Knocking the black cap off, pushing the headset down around the other’s slim neck, he only earned the very beginning of a huffy complaint before the Bostonian nearly melted into the feeling of thin, strong fingers carding through his hair. Almost as an afterthought, the elder male chuckled.

“‘S gettin’ a bit long, ain’t it, love? Startin’ ta be able ta tell you’ve got curly hair.” The warm smile on his lips only proved he wasn’t malicious in his intent. If he could get the Scout’s mind off of it, even for a minute, then his job would have been done.

“Yeah, guess it is…” He muttered in response, still fairly well sidetracked by the insistent rubs and gentle tugs as those talented fingers worked his scalp over lovingly, “But I don’t feel like lettin’ Soldier rip m’head off, yanno?” The answering chuckle told Weylon that he did, in fact, know.

“I could do ya up real nice, if ya want.” The small silence that stretched after this confession had him looking back towards the window nervously, face heated and eyes hidden. When his hand finally caught up with his otherwise still body, the scout frowned and tugged at the other’s vest to get his attention.

“I didn’t say ya could stop.” He muttered, trying to push a gloved hand through his blonde curls once more, “But, ah… Ya really think ya could cut it?”

“‘S not that hard, Roo.” The somewhat clipped tone made the man sigh shortly after, shaking his head, “But I won’t yank ya all around and leave ya bleedin’, ‘cause I’m no drongo.” The last bit was less than a whisper, but there it was.

“...I betcha just wanna get me naked.” Because it was better to do that if he could, so his clothes weren’t covered in cut hair. There was a chuckle on Richie’s lips that very obviously meant he didn’t deny it.

“Maybe so, love. Though I don’t need much of an excuse, now, do I?” Because there were days that Weylon would invent reasons almost too outlandish to believe just so he could get away with watching the Aussie gun down threats buck-ass naked. And, eventually, they both ended up nude and it all went downhill from there. He couldn’t have counted all the times that had happened on every finger and toe in the entire base; even if they got help from the REDs. The sheepish grin and light flush on the nineteen year old’s face proved his point, and Richie watched as he rose onto his knees and snapped his arms up to flex them.

“Gotta admit, sunshine, they’re frickin’ beautiful.” Kissing one bicep and then the other, he winked up at the other, who suddenly shot those legendary hands out to cup his jaw and bring him closer. Lips suddenly taken, both pairs chapped and a bit cracked but easily dampened and smoothed out, the pair stayed like that for a long time, until breathing became a bit more important than their closeness. Sometime between the kiss and the ‘gun show’, those orange shades had been pulled off and lovingly folded into the pocket of his vest, and the fondness in his eyes was enough to make the younger turn away. That, coupled with his next words, had his face burning up to his ears and down his chest, and an indignant pout on his lips.

“Everything about ya’s beautiful, Roo.” The whisper was light enough that it glanced off the younger man’s cheek, and he smiled a little, even through his pout. “An’... Maybe ya should keep the hair, yeah? Let it grow out a bit. If nothin’ else, it’s somethin’ ta hold onta.”

Now, _that_ was a thought...

**Author's Note:**

> Welp… That really wasn’t what I had intended to write. xD They stole my story! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!


End file.
